Denver pissed him off.

Jacque Lefavre had managed a long weekend pass from the Academy, and at the last minute decided to go to Denver instead of Aspen. It looked like rain.

Indeed it rained in Denver, bucket after cold bucket, time off at midnight for sleet. In Aspen, he learned later, it had been eight inches of good powder snow.

He went to the Denver Mint and it was closed. So was the museum; government holiday. He went to a bad movie.

He was walking along with his overcoat open and a cab splashed him from collar to cuff. Traveling light, he'd brought no other outer clothes.

The hotel's one-hour dry cleaning service took twenty hours. They wouldn't admit they'd lost the trousers.

He drank too much room-service booze, sitting in his room watching daytime TV in his underwear.

When he got his uniform back, they had neglected to roll the cuffs. He would have to re-iron them when he got back to Colorado Springs.

The desk clerk would allow him neither student discount nor military discount. He had to shout his way all the way to the assistant manager, and then they only gave him the reduced rate to get rid of him.

The train broke down and was six hours late.

He stomped his way through the sleeping dormitory, in mild trouble for coming in after curfew, and smelled fresh paint when the elevator stopped at his floor.

His roommate had painted their room flat black. Walls, ceiling, even the windows. Jacque had painted the room at the beginning of the semester, to cover up the government green. Now he discovered a curious thing.

There was a limit to rage.

"Uh, Clark," he said mildly. "What, you didn't like beige?"

Clark Franklin, his roommate, was stretched out on the bed, chewing a toothpick and studying the ceiling. "Nope."

"Personally, I thought it was rather soothing." He felt deadly calm but abstractly realized that his fingernails were hurting his palms. He stood at the foot of Franklin's bed.

Franklin shifted, crossing his ankles. He hadn't looked at Jacque yet "Chacun à son goof."

"'Goût.' I don't like the black very much."

"Well."

"You should have asked me first. We could have arrived at a compromise. I would've helped you paint it."

"You weren't here. I had to paint it while I had the time free." He looked at Jacque, lids half closed. "The beige was distracting, I couldn't study."

"You lazy son of a bitch, I've never seen you crack a book!" A neighbor thumped the wall and shouted for them to keep it down in there.

Franklin took the toothpick out of his mouth and inspected it. "Well, yeah. Couldn't study in the beige."

The next morning the registration clerk told Jacque he would have to wait until next semester to get a new roommate. Four months.